Heroes aren't meant to survive
by Karen Winchester
Summary: Placed in between S5 AND S6. "Heroes aren't meant to survive. Pain makes them how they are, and that pain is the one that ends up killing them somehow. Heroes are simple humans, not the ones someone read in comics. Heroes are meant to sacrifice themselves and to be forgotten as time goes by. Even if it doesn't sound pretty, it is how the world works" I don't own anything


Heroes aren't meant to survive

 _"Heroes are made by the paths they choose, not the powers they are graced with."_

 _― Brodi Ashton, Everneath_

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

 _'Dean, please!', begged a five year old Sammy,already fed and in his PJs_

 _'Sammy, you need to go to sleep', objected Dean. He needed to sleep as well, however, until Sam closed his eyes he wouldn't be able to do so._

 _'Pleeeeeease! One more Dee!' yelled Sam, now teary-eyed and staring at his big brother with those puppy dog eyes._

 _Dean exhaled and gave in. He didn't know why Sammy always won, but he did. It had been cute at the very beggining, but now it was a little bit annoying. He had to be good to his younger brother though. He was the one that was supposed to look after him._

 _'Ok. One more and you will go to sleep' Said Dean with a serious face._

 _Sam nodded with a big smile on his face as he snnugled next to his big brother._

 _'Once upon a time, there was a little boy named Sammy. He was a hero, and he saved people, lots of people! He could fly and was very strong. Everybody loved him and cared about him; specially his big brother Dean' started the elder brother, seeing how Sam's eyes started glowing. Sammy loved to be the hero of the story!_

 _Dean ended the story with Sam asleep next to him. The kid was tired, but he wanted to be like him. He wanted to stay up until later and watch more cartoons than he was allowed. He couldn't blame him though. It was cool to be bigger, because he could now do things that he had not been allowed to do before._

 _Few years passed, and Sam learned the truth about his family. He was just nine years old, but since then, he never again was the kid that asked for stories anymore. He just tried to sleep at night, being scared of the monsters that could be hunting them or their dad. Dean missed the old and innocent Sam, the one that was happy and believed in fairy tales. He should have lied to him when he showed him their dad's journal. He should have protected him for a little while longer._

 **Present time**

Dean sat on the garage of Lisa's house with a half empty beer bottle on his hand. Those days, Lisa and Ben stayed away from that place, giving Dean his place to remember what he had lost; to cry for the other half of his soul that was now burning in hell.

The Impala was parked inside the garage, being protected from the outside world. Perhaps he wanted to preserve what was left of his family. John, Mary and Sam were dead, so the only one that was left was him to face the pain of the world that cursed all of them.

Truth is that he had been hard on Sam for the last year, blaming him because he was pissed at God, the angels and demons who controled them. Sam had had a dark spot inside of him, he could not deny that. He had seen it in his eyes when he came back from hell, however, Sam had only tried to do the right thing for both of them. Sammy never knew what he would cause. So yeah, guilt was still eating him, even now that Sam was gone. His little brother had jumped to the burning pit of hell,and he had made a stupid promise to him before he did so. Dean swore he would live an apple pie life, when the reality was that sooner or later he would leave it and watch it through his rear-view mirror.

Dean could not deny that it felt good to have a woman that loved him and a boy that he would raise as a son. It was what he thought he wished since he turned eighteen at least. Now he saw how wrong he was. John had been right when he said he could not have a wife and all that stuff, however, he realized he didn't need it as long as he had his younger brother.

It had been six months since Sam had gone away, and despite his happy dreams with some old memories of them playing rough, Sam was too far away for him to reach him. Dean missed his voice, his bitch faces, his bed hair and the fights they had to shower first, so they could bathe with hot water.

Those old days felt like they were built by his imagination, perhaps being a way to scape from the darker reality that sorrounded him and held him as a prisoner.

" _It's okay, Dean. It's gonna be okay. I got him_ "

The elder brother repeated those last spoken words inside his head when he was alone or when he woke up to find Lisa by his side, still sleeping. The alarm clock was something that he still could not get used to though. He was used to wake up to the sound of Sam having a nightmare, or the small coughs his younger sibling would try to suppress, alerting the elder brother that he was getting sick. He had had a special job, a purpose in this life. Now, he had a normal job, but no purpose at all. What was he supposed to do? Was he supposed to breake Lisa's heart and leave? He would never get his 'hunting buddy' back. The passenger seat would remain empty for the rest of his days, as a constant reminder of the lucky life he had had despite the bruises he would get in the end of the day. He could not use his baby again, even if he loved her.

He was also afraid to go. Where would he go? He didn't want to bother Bobby, and also would not want to see that look in his eyes, feeling sorry for him. He was a mess, and had to keep himself together, specially now that a woman and a kid depended on him. They loved him more than he did, and he had to be grateful for that. Was this a sign from God? The words that Castiel said to him were still inside his head, kicking him in the gut. During the past year and a half, he had wished for freedom, for a world free of monsters that attacked him. He was tired, and he didn't know what he was going to lose.

" _You got what you asked for, Dean. No paradise. No hell. Just more of the same. I mean it, Dean. What would you rather have? Peace or freedom?_ "

Dean sighed and got up from the cold cement floor. He reminded to himself that he had not touched Sam's duffel bag since forever; probably since he got older and decided that his privacy came first.

Now that Sam was gone, he was not there to stop him, right? With guilt, he opened it. The smell of clean clothes hit him harder than he expected.

Picking up his clothes, he smelled them again, also sensing Sam's 'girly' perfume; the one that Jessica had given him many years ago and he kept to himself.

After removing a couple of jeans, shirts and underwear our of it, he found a weird book. Dean took it and recognized it instantly. Sam was fourteen years old when he bought it with some money he had saved. It was a book with different kind of quotes. He loved to read them, and every night he would read the ones he marked as his favorites ones.

The elder Winchester passing the pages, until he read one that made him close his eyes and suppress the tears threating to slid down his face.

It said: " _Heroes aren't meant to survive. Pain makes them how they are, and that pain is the one that ends up killing them somehow. Heroes are simple humans, not the ones someone read in comics. Heroes are meant to sacrifice themselves and to be forgotten as time goes by. Even if it doesn't sound pretty, it is how the world works_ "

That day, Dean drove to Stull Cementery, carved in a cross the word "Hero" and placed it in the spot where Sam jumped along with Adam. The quote had been right in one part. Sam was a human and a real hero, but there was one part that he added to it as soon as he came back to Lisa's home.

 _Big brother will always remember you, will never be forgotten, bitch"_

 **THE END.-**

 **Author's note: Hey guys! Here's a one-shot for y'all. I imagined this in mind and had to write it. Guess it happend to everyone who writes, right? Anyway, hope you enjoy it, and please review :)**

 **P.S. I broke my own heart and almost made myself cry. However, I don't regret anything**


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